The Homosexuality Of Michael Myers
by ben1981
Summary: Michael Myers once again prowls Haddonfield, Illinois looking for hot guys to thrill & kill!
1. The Night Before Halloween

Halloween: The Homosexuality Of Michael Myers

written by

Ben Dover

...The Night He Came!

Disclaimer: I do not known all of the characters included in this story. They were created by John Carpenter and Debra Hill.

Chapter One: The Night Before Halloween

It was the night before Halloween in Haddonfield, Illinois. Dr. Sam Loomis was sitting in his wheelchair at the Haddonfield, Illinois retirement home. He had been in the home for several years. He was placed there because he was left paralyzed by stab wounds inflicted by Michael Myers. But now he has dementia as well.

Dr. Loomis was silent until he caught a whiff of something horrible. He looked to his left and saw his friend Tony Dean sitting there. Tony was an elderly black man with irritable bowel syndrome.

"Jesus, man. Did you shit yourself?" Dr. Loomis asked.

"Yes I did. And there is plenty more where that came from," Tony said, laughing.

"Tony, I don't know why I'm friends with you," Dr. Loomis said, shaking his head.

"It's because you have dementia and can't remember that I have irritable bowel syndrome. At least not until you smell my shit. Ha ha. Hey, do you know what tomorrow is?" Tony asked.

"I have dementia, remember. I don't know a damned thing, anymore," Dr. Loomis said.

"Tomorrow is Halloween, man. The night where the gay boogeyman comes out to have some fun," Tony said.

"Oh, yes. Now I remember. It's the night when that gay psychopath Michael Myers prowls Haddonfield looking for a fresh piece of man ass to rape and slice," Dr. Loomis.

"That's right. But he ain't gonna get my ass. My ass is anything but fresh. My black ass is old and sour. And it smells like doo doo," Tony said, cackling.

"I think I just remembered something. Michael Myers is the bastard who made me like this. He's the reason why I'm in a wheelchair and can't feel my 96-year old penis," Dr. Loomis said bitterly.

"Hey, man. You might can't feel your dick, but at least you still have one. Bruce Jenner sure can't say that," Tony said.

"Who is this Bruce Jenner you speak of?" Dr. Loomis asked.

"He's that dude from the show Keeping Up With The Kardashians. He got himself a nice little sex change, and now he wants us to call him Caitlyn Jenner," Tony replied.

"I see," Dr. Loomis said.

"So, what are you gonna do if ol' Michael Myers decides to drop by tomorrow?" Tony asked, a glint in his eye.

"It will be his bloody funeral, for I shall mow him down with my wheelchair," Dr. Loomis replied.


	2. The Ghost Of Laurie Strode

Chapter 2: The Ghost Of Laurie Strode

It was Halloween morning in Haddonfield, Illinois. At the old, decrepit Myer's House, Michael Myers woke up in his filthy bed and sat up. He saw his sister Laurie Strode standing in front of his bed.

"Hello, Michael. It's your bitch sister, Laurie. Remember me?" Laurie asked.

Michael got out of bed, and took a large butcher knife from under his pillow. He slowly walked over to where Laurie stood and pointed the knife at her. He then pushed the knife forward, aiming at her chest.

Michael was confused as the knife went right through Laurie. There was no blood or reaction from Laurie. He dropped the knife and took a step back.

"You can't kill me, Michael. I'm already dead. I've been in hell for the last thirteen years. And I've been waiting for you to join me. But you're still here. And still killing. Only now you're killing boys. I guess you got tired of girls. Got tired of all of the screaming," Laurie said.

Laurie surveyed Michael's room. There were posters of One Direction, Nick Jonas, and Justin Bieber hanging on the wall. Laurie shook her head.

"You used to be a badass, Michael. Everyone was scared of you. Now you're into One Direction and Justin Bieber. You're a sell out, Michael. I can't believe I feared you so many years ago. I can't believe I ran from you. You're a joke," Laurie said, continuing to shake her head.

Michael stared blankly at the ghost of his sister as she babbled on.

"Happy Halloween, Brother," Laurie said, before completely vanishing before Michael's eyes.

Michael reached down and picked up his knife. He walked over to his bed and brought the knife down on the mattress. He started stabbing his mattress, again and again. He was pretending the mattress was a young man. He was practicing for tonight.


	3. Cop With A Grudge

Chapter 3: Cop With A Grudge

Connie Grant was sitting at the kitchen table staring at a picture of her son Mark. In the picture, Mark was naked and showing off his beautiful erect penis. Mark was 18 years old and working as a nude model when he was killed by Michael Myers one year ago.

Connie, who was in her mid-forties, started to cry while looking at the picture of her dead son. She then started shaking.

Connie's husband, Detective Gary Grant, walked into the kitchen to find his wife crying. He shook his head, which was covered in blonde hair. He then noticed that Connie was holding a picture of their dead son.

"Connie, you okay?" Gary asked, concerned.

Connie turned around and looked at her husband. Her face was wet from crying.

"Not really. I miss him, Gary. And he was such a good-looking kid. He could've been the world's top nude male model," Connie said, wiping away her tears.

"I know. He was one hot piece of dick. Had a nice ass, too. But you have to remember that God will have his vengeance. As a matter of fact, I might have mine as well," Gary said.

"What are you talking about?" Connie asked.

"If Michael Myers shows himself tonight, and I believe that he will, I'm going to kill that son of a pussy ass bitch," Gary said, his teeth clenched in anger.

"Oh, Gary, don't get yourself killed. You're all I have," Connie said.

"You're all I have, too, other than my anger for that masked psychopath. Tonight, he must die. Or my name isn't Detective Gary Grant," Gary said.

"I love you," Connie said, quietly.

"I love you, too, even though I haven't been able to show you in a while thanks to my erectile dysfunction," Gary said, shaking his head in dismay.

"I know you love me. And don't worry about your little problem. I have a vibrator, you know," Connie said.

Connie then smiled. It was the first time that Gary had seen his wife smile in a long time.

"Now, I'm going to go to work sweet tits. You stay inside and get some rest. Try not to think about Michael Myers or our sexy dead son," Gary said.

"Okay, Gary. And you will kill that sick maniac, won't you?" Connie asked.

"Are you kidding? I'm going to rip his intestines out and then I'm going to take a shit on them," Gary said, smiling.

"I love it when you talk dirty," Connie said.

"Bye, honey," Gary said, turning and walking out of the room as Connie watched.

"Time to break out the old vibrator," Connie said, getting up from the kitchen table.


	4. School Boys

Chapter 4: School Boys

It was Halloween morning at the Haddonfield School For Gays. Ryan Crawford and Christopher Banes were sitting in their History class. Their teacher, Mr. Hotstuff, was standing in front of the class. Ryan and Christopher were the only two students in the class.

Ryan was tall and slender with brown hair. Christopher was also thin and he had colored his hair purple. Mr. Hotstuff was a stud of a man, with bulging muscles, black hair, and tattoos. Both Ryan and Christopher were eighteen years old and seniors at the Haddonfield School For Gays.

Christopher was seated at the front of the class, with Ryan sitting behind him. Christopher turned around and smiled devilishly at Ryan.

"Doesn't Mr. Hotstuff look hot today?" Christopher asked.

"He sure does. I see why they call him Mr. Hotstuff," Ryan said, quietly laughing.

"If you barely legal boytoys are done with your gabfest, I'd like for us to talk about Michael Myers since today is Halloween," Mr. Hotstuff said, standing behind a podium.

"I hear he sucks a mean dick. What about you, Mr. Hotstuff? Do you suck a mean dick?" Christopher asked seductively.

"Mr. Banes, that is highly innappropriate classroom conversation," Mr. Hotstuff replied.

"Then maybe we should talk about it after class," Christopher said, smiling mischeviously.

"Yes, that would be fine. Now, let's talk about Michael Myers. It's sad but true that when people think about Halloween in this town, they immediately think about Michael Myers. Can either of you tell me why?" Mr. Hotstuff asked, his eyes fixed on both Christopher and Ryan.

"He's killed a lot of people," Ryan replied.

"Correct, Ryan. And his MO in the last few years has changed. He used to stalk and kill primarily women. But a few years ago, his attention shifted to young men. And he not only kills the young men, but he rapes them with his big donkey dick," Mr. Hotstuff said enthusiastically.

"Doesn't sound so bad to me," Christopher remarked.

"Oh, but he doesn't rape them while they are still alive. He rapes them after they are dead," Mr. Hotstuff said.

"That is totally gross," Ryan said.

"I agree. And speaking of gross, I have to take a wicked shit. So you two talk amonst yourselves while I'm the bathroom hatching turds out of my sexy ass," Mr. Hotstuff said.

Ryan and Christopher watched as Mr. Hotstuff left the room, one of his hands on his stomach and his other hand on his butt.

"Oh my God, he is so sexy. I want him to pound my tight virgin hole," Christopher said excitedly.

"Oh, Chris. You are such a perv," Ryan said.

Ryan happened to glance out of the window of the classroom. He gasped when he saw a man wearing a white mask staring at him from outside. It was Michael Myers. Ryan then blinked and Michael was gone as if he had vanished.


	5. Making A Documentary

Chapter 5: Making A Documentary

Julie Hugetits was standing outside the house of an old lady by the name of Granny Wrinkles. Standing across from her was Wes Carpenter. Wes was a young male who wore glasses. He was holding a camera, which was recording Julie.

Julie was a former pornstar, but she was trying to break into directing movies. She wanted her first foray into directing to be a documentary about Michael Myers. Julie was middle-aged, had long black hair, and big breasts thanks to multiple breast implants.

"I am standing outside someone's house in Haddonfield, Illinois. I'm about to go in and annoy the hell out of whoever is," Julie said, scowling as usual.

Julie walked to the front steps of the house, while Wes followed. Wes was recording Julie the whole time.

Julie knocked on the front door. She then rang the doorbell repeatedly until Granny opened the front door.

"Well, hey sweetie. How, can I help you?" Granny asked.

"You can let us in, old lady," Julie said rudely.

"Okay, but you're interruptin' my program. I was watching Matlock," Granny said, moving out of the way where Julie and Wes could enter the house.

"Old lady, I don't care if you're watching Sex & The City. I am on a serious mission here," Julie said, following Granny into a living room while Wes was taping.

"So, you're a missionary. Oh, your help isn't needed. I've been a child of the Lord for sixty goddamn years," Granny said innocently.

"No, I ain't no fucking missionary. I'm a documentary filmmaker. I'm making a movie about that nutjob Michael Myers. First things first, tell me your name," Julie demanded.

"My name is Granny Wrinkles. What's yours?" Granny asked politely.

"It's Julie Hugetits, as if it's any of your fucking business," Julie blurted.

"Well, my don't have a mouth on you. Do you kiss your mother with those lips?" Granny asked.

"No, I don't. I ain't no dyke. Now my second question is how long have you lived in this shitty little town?" Julie asked.

"I've lived here my whole life, and I've lived in this house for most of it. My husband lived here with me, God rest his soul. I have many good memories of my husband and this house, especially in the bedroom. My husband was quite the lover," Granny said, smiling sheepishly.

"Look, Granny, I don't give a sweet fuck about your dead husband. Tell me everything you know about Michael Myers and don't leave out any juicy stuff," Julie said.

"Well, all I know about Michael Myers is that he's a bad man who has done many bad things," Granny said.

"You have to know more than that, you old bag," Julie shouted.

"Hey, I want you and your little cameraman to get the hell out of my house. You have wasted enough of my time. I'm missing Matlock, you know," Granny said, standing up.

"Fine by me. Your house smells like stale farts and moth balls anyway," Julie said, both her and Wes standing up and making their way to the front door.

"You know what. I hope Michael Myers kills you, you hussy. I hope he cuts off your titties and shoves them down your throat," Granny said, as Julie and Wes walked out the front door.

"Kids these days. They ain't got no fuckin' class," Granny said, shaking her head.


End file.
